


Match the Curtains

by hotrodngold (Krystalicekitsu)



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Avengers Movies Universe
Genre: Curtain Fic, Domestic, Fluff, M/M, Pets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-08
Updated: 2012-10-08
Packaged: 2017-11-15 21:30:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/531925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krystalicekitsu/pseuds/hotrodngold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I don't know. Isn't that a thing people do? You know- Have angry, 'I-hate-your-guts-but-Fury-says-we-need-to-work-together' sex, move in together, sort of start dating, really start dating, share rooms, and then buy drapes?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Match the Curtains

"We should get drapes."

Steve blinks, looks up from the Star Wars novel Clint had loaned him four weeks ago. As far as literature went, the 2010s beat out anything he'd ever put eyes to in the 1930s _or_ the 40s, though some of the character development choices, and so-called 'plot' made him wonder exactly when the entire world decided to experiment with boot-heel hooch.

"Drapes?" he asks.

"Drapes," Tony affirms.

Steve blinks again. Shakes his head.

" _Why_ should we get drapes?" He waves the paperback in the direction of the floor-to-ceiling, self-or-JARVIS-tinting windows very pointedly. Besides the obvious impracticality of adding drapes to the windows, clutter in designs or décor is not very Tony-like.

Tony shrugs, rolling partially sideways so he can tip his head over the arm of the couch without overtly straining his neck. 'Overtly'. Sometimes, Steve is sure Tony doesn't notice physical discomfort. Other times, Steve is alternately sure Tony doesn't care, or is determined to ignore anything he does to himself.

"I don't know. Isn't that a thing people do? You know- Have angry, 'I-hate-your-guts-but-Fury-says-we-need-to-work-together' sex, move in together, sort of start dating, really start dating, share rooms, and then buy drapes?"

Tony… Tony honestly expects an answer to that. Steve is tempted to just keep staring at him like an audience of one waiting for the punch line.

"N…o?" he ventures carefully.

Sometimes, Steve's sure Tony was raised in this dimension while simultaneously being raised in another one and then someone came along and smooshed the two together. Sometimes, Steve is even benevolent enough to imagine that this other dimension had concepts like sanity and rational, human interaction somewhere in its far, far, far, far, far distant past.

Not usually.

Occasionally, though.

"Oh," Tony turns to stare at the ceiling.

"So. No curtains." Tony asks it. It wouldn't seem like it, Steve knows, but that's a Tony-question.

He also knows that the halted conversation was _going_ somewhere. Emphasis on the _was_.

Quiet is good. Steve is distinctly feeling that this conversation is going to dissolve into verbal quicksand. Maybe if he's quiet enough, Tony will forget he's here, in the exact same greatroom, sitting not ten feet from the couch Tony's sprawled out on.

Yeah, right.

"What about a dog?"

 _Quicksand! Quicksand!_ his mind screams at him. Steve gets the feeling it's already too late.

"Tony," Steve sighs, because he knows, he _knows_ this is going to end badly, but he can't _not_ say it. "We barely have enough time to take care of ourselves. Adopting a dog, who will need to be walked, and fed, and played with is just selfish when we don't have the attention to spare."

A heavy pause.

_Quicksand! Quicksand!_

"Besides," he offers, very much less sure, "dogs have a tendency of chewing on things like wires and wouldn't it be a bad idea for him to chew on any of the Iron Man?"

Steve winces when Tony only offers a "yeah, you're right" and turns over to face the back of the couch.

The klaxon call of _Quicksand!_ dies a painful, screeching death in the back of his mind.

Steve knows- _knows_ , alright, like he knows water is wet and Tony is jealous of Reed Richards- that there's no such thing as a 'Tony-sense', but he still has one and right now it's pointed firmly at 'there was another level of this conversation, you moron, and Tony thinks you got it and you hurt him by turning him down, dumbass, so figure out what you broke really damn fast'.

It shouldn't be as common a state as it is.

Tony does tend to be unreasonably difficult to parse, though.

And then, he's not sure from where, a show drifts through his head, snippets of a sitcom laugh-track and a joke about adopting anything together being more serious than marriage because 'any dumb Britiany can get married'.

Fuck.

_Dumbass!_

Steve clears his throat. Tries to ignore the way the lump on the couch patently ignores him.

"You know." He has to stop and try again. Is that his heartbeat?

"You know," he tries again, louder, "A cat's pretty self-sufficient. Less messy. Um. Less…. in the…. Way," he finishes, lamely and- wow. He can actually _feel_ his ears burning. 'Less… in the… way'? God.

But Tony's peaking over his shoulder now, one eye warily, and patiently trained on Steve.

He swallows. At least this cannot possibly get any worse.

"Cats, you know, small, too. More- quiet? Less dirty- I said that already- There was a Maine Coon in the shelter on West Madison?"

_Please say something so I can shut up, Tony._

_Please._

That one eye stares at him for two long, excruciating blinks before the head turns back to the couch.

"…I'm free Wednesday for an hour and a half after my first meeting," Tony offers and Steve feels the fierce grin spread across his face seconds before he even realizes that he's smiling.

He stands up, still grinning, and barely able to contain his excitement, because Tony's agreed to adopt a cat with him, "I'm going to go then, need to read up on things and, maybe get some things and- I'm going to go. Um. Now."

Tony doesn't have the chance to make a response before Steve is out the door.

 

 

 

Tony lies on the couch and listens to Steve ramble and leave, one hand pressed to the arc reactor he knew wasn't actually trying to spin out of his chest. He'd thought- But Steve hadn't. He hadn't, Steve had only had an even _better_ suggestion and-

Tony cracks a still-shaky smile at the fierce whoop of excited glee echoing up the long hallway.

He curls around the arc reactor for a second longer before peering up to verify the greatroom really is empty-

and squeeing and kicking his feet like a fanboy.

**Author's Note:**

> for the [](http://cap-ironman.livejournal.com/profile)[**cap_ironman**](http://cap-ironman.livejournal.com/) [bingo](http://krystalicekitsu.livejournal.com/204390.html#cutid1) square 'Curtain fic'. I may have taken that in both the literal and the intended meanings. I apologize for the punning.


End file.
